


Life’s Rich Pageant

by Not2be



Category: Insatiable (TV 2018)
Genre: Depression, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 03:08:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15787716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not2be/pseuds/Not2be
Summary: "“Bob!” Oh, life’s rich bounty, how it just kept on giving. The last person he wanted to see right now was Bob Baywatch Body Barnard.Startled, and in his panic to hide the incriminating pill bottle he dropped it on the floor..."





	Life’s Rich Pageant

Bob sighed staring down the orange bottle on his desk before he snatched it up and turned it around in his hands. Would these make him happy? Wasn’t he supposed to be happy already?

Well he was…in a way…just a different sort of happy, where you’re not exactly…happy _happy_ but happy adjacent? Though the gun in his glovebox would beg to differ. Well he certainly wasn’t _unhappy_ …was he? Bob had started turning rationalization into an Olympic sport it seemed these last few months.

He went through law school to make his dad happy, and he was good at it too but, he rolled his eyes thinking of how that turned out. And he took the job at the law firm to make Coralee happy and afford them the lifestyle she? They? Wanted. And don’t get him wrong he loved his wife dearly and his family; perfect wife, perfect family, perfect job. So... he should be happy right.  Was he broken? Was he greedy?

He thought pageants would make him happy and they did, he thought, for a while. But they’re also what landed him in his current mess. He squeezed the translucent orange bottle in a white knuckled grasp as he thought of the person he hated most, ReGINA Sinclair.  What he needed now was a  _real_ winner. Coralee would be furious if he started coaching again and he couldn’t really blame her after what happened. But God, he missed it. The smell of enough Aqua net to be responsible for at lest 1/3 of global warming, the smell of fake hair baking under hot stage lights, and most of all the _victory._ Taking down the smug competition, the other coaches and pageant moms that looked down on him, and most exquisitely Bob Bastard Barnard. Maybe by helping others be the best themselves they could be he could help him be…more than he was.

Meanwhile, Miss Magic Jesus was happening across town and here he was. He could be applying orchids to a beautiful lavender bonnet that would match perfectly with-

“Bob!” Oh, life’s rich bounty, how it just _kept_ on giving. The last person he wanted to see right now was Bob Baywatch Body Barnard.

Startled, and in his panic to hide the incriminating pill bottle he dropped it on the floor, he was pretty sure his heart jumped up his throat to join it. 

If the God, he never prayed to really was as merciful as advertised he’d strike him down now. Perhaps those types of thoughts should be concerning to him…it was something to unpack at another time.

He dove forward reaching madly for the pills and trying not to fall out of his rolling chair, he really needed to work on strengthening his core. But alas Barnard swooped them up in a swift elegant motion.

“What do we have here?” He drawled.

“Nothing!” Bob tried to sound inconspicuous while his traitorous voice jumped an octave.

“They certainly don’t look like nothing?” Barnard responded smugly. _Ugh._

“They’re none of your business, Nosey Nancy.” Bob snatched the bottle haughtily and shoved it into his desk with shaking hands. He ran his palms down his dark navy-blue plaid suit jacket trying to calm himself and regain a put together appearance.

“Now, Bob, out of the two of us who is more of a _Nancy_?” Barnard asked smugness and charm in full force. _Double ugh_. Bob hated how he just oozed effortless charisma, he was so damned smugly charming, and charmingly smug. To everyone else that is, Bob thought quickly. To Bob A. he was just insufferable.

“While your hilarity always amuses me Bob, I really must be getting back-” In an act of pure unbridled audacity Barnard scooped the pills out of the open drawer a mischievous look on his face. Bob would have told Captain Boner to get his ass of his desk if he wasn’t in such a panic.

“What pharmacological wonder is helping our Bob along today.”

“Don’t-” Bob felt like a child having his bright pink sequined school bag taken away from him and held just out of his reach by the taller stronger bullies. Sure, now he knows he was probably better off without the tacky thing, but at the time it hurt.

Barnard looked taken aback for just a brief moment as he inspected the label but carried on full force ahead with their playful thinly veiled antagonistic banter.

Barnard clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth “You could have told me little Bobby was blue-”

“He’s not! I mean I’m not! I’m just…” Bob’s mouth hung open in desperation as his mind scrambled to come up with something “Holding them for a pageant client” He lifted his head smugly and snatched the bottle back. Barnard raised a perfect eyebrow, clearly not buying the cow nor its milk.

“For a pageant girl?” He repeated incredulously.

“Yes, you know how demanding competition can be, it can be very hard on these girls” It took him a beat before he realized the implications of what he had said. Magnolia was doing better from what he had heard but he still didn’t want to hit that particular nerve. He had really stuck his oxford leather shoe in his mouth this time.

“I didn’t mean-” Bob started sincerely apologetic, when Barnard put up his hand stopping him.

“I Know you didn’t.” Barnard gave him a small smile that made Bob’s chest constrict in an odd way.

“But wait a second, if they’re for someone else then why do they have _your_ name on them, Armstrong.” Oh, and there was that familiar distain he had for Bob Backstreet Boy Barnard, the world was right again.

“I…because” He floundered.

Barnard continued to look at him with his eyebrows raised and a challenging grin.

“Alright fine. I lied. But they’re not for what you think they are.”

“Oh, no?”

“No” He said exasperatedly, “they’re too…um…well, they’re too…help me concentrate” _Boom._ Bob smiled satisfied with himself.

“Look Bob I’m no detective, but I would think an anti _depressant_ would be for-”

“Well in addition to not being a detective, are you a psychophramacologist hm?”

“No-”

“And are you a psychiatrist?”

“No, but some people call me a love doctor.” If Bob had rolled his eyes any harder, they would have popped out of his head.

“The _point_ is I am perfectly fine!” He threw his hands up. Barnard went to open his mouth again and Bob broke.

“Just don’t alright, leave it- I probably won’t even take the stupid things so, just-” He looked resolutely at anything other than perfect fucking Barnard. He didn’t know why he let himself get to riled up by him, and why he suddenly felt on the verge of angry embarrassed tears.

Barnard’s expression softened a bit “Look, I’m sorry Bob okay. But I mean it when I say you can talk to me-”

“Talk to you?” He asked unbelieving. That response was supposed to stay in a thought bubble. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stand the sincere open look on his face as if he actually cared, as if he could actually trust Bob Back Stabbing Brutus Barnard. He should have just nodded and ushered Barnard out of his office, but alright, they were going to have this conversation he guessed. 

“Yes. Why not?” Barnard almost looked…hurt.

Bob swallowed hard contemplating if he was going to say it, then sighed relenting.

“When can I talk to you exactly Bob, hm? when your meddling in my life? When you’re putting me down and messing with me at every turn?”

“I’m just having fun with ya”

“No. No. You lost that right when you stopped being my friend when we were 14.” He expected Barnard to laugh in his face, to tell him it was no big deal, to use this against him but instead

“I’m sorry.” And he looked it. Genuinely, sorry, sad even. Bob looked back at him confused and hurt.

“You have no idea what it’s like-”

“Yes, I do” Barnard swallowed thickly moving closer to Bob still sat in his chair.

“I do and I’m sorry. And at the risk of sounding corny…I missed my friend.”

“Me too” Bob whispered with the aching epiphany that he really did.

Was this real? Was Barnard just fucking with him? In that moment Bob didn’t care. He felt a deep longing, a hunger for something he didn’t realize he wanted.

Most of his life was about trying to distract, tamp down, or redirect that hunger, but his heart realized his was starving for something his mind didn’t have time to rationalize. He felt himself leaning in as Barnard was. He wasn’t sure when Barnard’s hand had gotten on his shoulder, but it was a warm comforting weight. Why hadn’t he noticed how good Barnard smelled before, crisp and clean, masculine and vaguely sweet. Barnard’s warm breath made his body feel like it was on fire. They hung there suspended in the space between them, inches apart, and yet still too far.

They jumped away from one another Bob hitting the side of his desk, when they heard a knock on the office door shortly fallowed by Bob A.’s father. He was never one to wait for permission.

“Bob! Giving my son some much needed advice, I hope” He laughed heartily slapping Barnard on the back.

“I think he’s doing just fine for himself, sir.” Barnard responded jovially, all vulnerability gone.

Bob felt too disoriented to even be annoyed with his father.

“I’m glad I caught you I wanted to discuss the Richardson’s case.”

“Alright, Sir.” Barnard winked at Bob and gave him a winning pageant girl smile, white teeth and all before following the senior Armstrong out of the room.

Bob sat in the heavy silence for a moment before he pulled out the bottle from his desk with a rattle. He stared at them again beseechingly. He knew rationally taking medication was nothing to be ashamed of but… he wondered now if the emptiness he felt really was just a matter of chemicals. Maybe it was something else. Or maybe he truly was just going crazy. He poured the correct dose into his hand and back into the bottle a couple of times before just shoving the whole thing away.

**Author's Note:**

> Bob B. might have sounded a bit meanier than would be in character, but in my mind he does it to cover up how much he cares about Bob A.


End file.
